When Sadness Is a Source of Pleasure

Flowers turn vile
As they warp into dangerous pulp.
The purple crimson had once captured
My mind and my heart,
But now, it’s no more than a splash of soil.
Deep into the lake’s bitter fronds
We swim,
Until they annihilate us.

You can flounder back in there if you want.
I won’t be there
To catch you when you fall.
Instead, I would watch you,
With cold eyes,
Too numb to feel my own emotions,
Let alone yours.

An icy, transparent prison
Locks you in its grip.
And the worst thing is,
You enjoy it.
Somehow, you think you deserve to be punished.
If only you didn’t feel this way,
If only you could be confident, clever,
And not need anybody,
Then you wouldn’t have fallen
Into this trap today.
It’s much better to languish in a jail of frost,
Than to wander lost
In some woeful and desolate freedom.

A while ago, I felt miserable and hopeless about some things in my life. The sorrow was so strong, that it was unbearable.

Then I wrote a poem to depict these feelings as vividly as I could. After I was done, I felt much better. I grew calmer and more hopeful.

The odd thing was, I actually enjoyed being sad. I liked the sheer intensity of feeling, and it gratified me to express these feelings in words and imagery. Hence the name of this poem: “When Sadness Is a Source of Pleasure.”

“Flowers turn vile” is an allusion to Charles Baudelaire, who wrote the poetry collection “Les Fleurs du Mal” (“Flowers of Evil”). Baudelaire is known for his portrayal of decay and despair in a way that feels satisfying and beautiful.

Thanks for reading!

Originally published in Move Me Poetry on April 12, 2022